


Chrysalis

by kenwave



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dysphoria, M/M, SEP era, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Trans Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 12:02:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10990545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenwave/pseuds/kenwave
Summary: Exiting the stall, a pile of items resting on the toilet seat, Jack looks in the mirror. It feels like a weight has been lifted once blue eyes meet blue in the mirror. Jack's chest is flat, curves covered by the baggy shirt stolen from a brother left behind on the farm. Finally at peace, Jack shoots a hesitant smile toward the reflection in the mirror.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for unsafe binding at the end of the chapter!
> 
> Thank you very much to TimelessTragedy and Guzhenn for beta reading this! Without them it wouldn't be anywhere near the quality it is.
> 
> Also, the pronouns Jack uses will change when he finally starts to figure everything out.

She stands tall in line with the other soldiers, shoulders back, head held high. She finds herself standing taller than most other soldiers, especially the other females among the group. Jack doesn’t mind it though; she takes pride in her height when compared to others. She was sometimes told her height wasn’t feminine, but she didn’t care. It made her feel good that her height makes her different. It makes her not like the girls.

They’re all waiting to get assigned to groups for testing. Each soldier is to be separated and trained in groups lead by a different officer. Each Commanding Officer in the room taking turns reading off of a list, their squads slowly forming around them once they’ve finished.

The next Commanding Officer to take her turn reading her list is also a tall woman, with strong shoulders and a stocky build. The look in her eyes demands respect. She has short cropped brown hair covered by a cap, captain’s stripes on her shoulders. Captain Kohuk is her name. Jack doesn’t know much about her, doesn’t know if she’ll be assigned under her, but she admires her.

Standing beside Jack is a man who is the same height as her. He has broad shoulders, strong arms, and a shaved head. She can’t help but be jealous of his short hair. Her braided hair tickles her neck and she frowns. She hates it. He also sports a soft looking goatee.

She’s wrenched from her thoughts by Captain Kohuk calling her name. “Jacklyn Morrison, you’re with me.”

“Please, call me Jack,” she insists. The captain gives her a look, lips pinched at the corners, brows furrowed down slightly in an attempt to cover up her intrigue. She nods and scribbles it down on her list.

“I’ll only be calling you Morrison from here on out, but it is noted.”

Jack nods in understanding.

She allows herself to drift off, watching as soldiers are grouped up into different squads and file out of the room, examining each and every one of them as they go. She’s roused from her thoughts by the man standing beside her nudging her in the arm to get her attention.

“We’re going.”

“Huh?”

“We’re with Captain Kohuk’s squad. She wants to do some initial testing to see where we’re all at right now,” the man explains.

“Oh. Okay.”

He stares at Jack with deep brown eyes, examining her carefully. Once he’s done he gives her a small smile, one she thinks is meant to reassure her, and places his hand onto her shoulder, leading her in the right direction.

They walk mostly in silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. She watches as they pass other soldiers walking around base, taking a moment or two to stare longer at some of the men. It isn’t too long before they arrive at an obstacle course. Captain Kohuk stands in front of it, a stern look on her face.

“I see we’ve all finally arrived,” she says, giving a pointed look to the two soldiers, hands crossed in front of her chest. “Next time, try not to be late, Morrison, Reyes.”

“Yessir!” They both salute her, quickly getting into position.

Jack slumps forward, shoulders curled inward as she watches the other men and women in her squad run the obstacle course. The fortunate thing about going last - or close to it - is that she gets to see what she’s up against. She’ll get to see the mistakes they make and how she can avoid them when it’s her turn. She knows she has the ability to outdo everyone in her squad; she just has to put her mind to it and push herself. Easy enough. The people she had seen so far didn’t impress her. It doesn’t seem like she’ll have that much competition after all.

She watches as Captain Kohuk calls Reyes up for his turn. He’s swift on the course, moving with a grace and confidence she hasn’t seen from any of the other soldiers yet. His time is the best of the entire group.

Determination swells in Jack’s chest as she’s called up and takes her place at the starting line. It’s obvious that Reyes would be her biggest competitor. She _will_ do better than him - show him that she could keep up with him or even _one up him_.

As soon as she’s given the go-ahead, she takes off. The air rushes through her hair, braid whipping against her back as she moved. She might not have some of the strength the others in her squad - especially the men - have, but, _god damn_ , does she have the speed and agility to make up for it.

With finesse she hopes matches Reyes’, she throws herself over obstacles, crawls steadily under the fences, and maneuvers through the tight spaces. She paces herself - keeps herself moving - rolling whenever she hits the ground to keep her momentum.

It’s only when she reaches the rock wall that she pauses, hesitating.

She’s never been good with this sort of thing, but the longer she idles around, the higher the number on the stopwatch climbs, seconds ticking by with each breath she takes as she steels her nerves.

She breaks into a sprint, running up a couple metres and grabbing onto the hand holds, pulling her weight up. Her arms shake with exertion, but she keeps going.

She has to beat Reyes.

When Jack reaches the top, her breathing is laboured. But she doesn’t have time to catch her breath. Chest heaving, she swingers herself over the edge and scales down the other side. With one last burst of energy, she sprints past Captain Kohuk at the finish who thumbs the stopwatch and jots down Jack’s time.

Jack skids to a stop and doubles over, breathing heavily as she catches her breath, sweat pouring down her face. Her hair and clothing soaked. She vaguely registers words being spoken but can barely hear them over her heavy breathing.

“Congratulations, Reyes and Morrison, you two have the top two scores by far. Looks like the rest of you need to up your game if any of you want a fighting chance at even being considered for the Soldier Enhancement Program!” Captain Kohuk states, eying each of the soldiers in the squad carefully with piercing brown eyes.

Pride floods through Jack and she straightens, holding her head high, trying to keep a smirk from her face. She doesn't know if she topped Reyes’ score, but if not, she's still damned proud she's a force to be reckoned with for the others in her squad.

Soon, they're all dismissed for the day, getting assigned rooms and told to take the time to get to know the facilities and squadmates. A heavy, warm hand lands on her shoulder before she has a chance to make it out of the room.

She turns around to be face to face with Reyes, the man giving her an intense look. She can feel blood rush to her face, completely unrelated to the exertion she had put her body through.

“Jack, is it?”

“Yeah…” she answers, hesitant. She doesn't know why Reyes would want to chat with someone who will give his scores a run for their money.

“Gabriel Reyes.” He reaches out his hand, and she takes it, shaking firmly. An awkward silence descends upon them, Reyes quiet, hands still clasped together.

He raises an eyebrow at her when her grip doesn’t slacken, her hand still clasping his.

Jack’s gaze falls on their hands, and she immediately pulls away.

“Oh, uh, sorry.” Her face flushes. She hates how awkward she is, especially around this man. It's going to ruin her façade. She doesn't want to be close to anyone.

Not when everyone has expectations she can’t live up to.

Jack gives Reyes an awkward farewell before heading to her assigned barracks, grabbing the clothes that rest on her designated bed and dashing for the communal showers.

She heaves a heavy sigh as she undresses. All the other female soldiers have already showered and left, gone on to grab lunch from the cafeteria. She's glad she can do this alone.

She steps into the stall, turning on the showerhead. Water falls on her head, the heat coming off of it feels like heaven on her sore muscles. She takes the regulation shampoo and scrubs it through her hair. Her head feels heavy, her thick blond hair a substantial weight when wet.

Releasing another sigh, she wishes she could cut it all off. She thinks she might feel a bit better about herself if she was able to. But her parents wouldn't take it well. They love her long blond hair.

Jack hates it.

She washes up quickly but idles around, just standing there, letting the heat wrap around her body. She frowns as she places a hand on her breast, pushing down, wishing that it would stay flat against her. She hates the curves of her body, the softness of it. When people complimented her on her appearance, it did nothing but make her more and more uncomfortable.

Words that plagued her mind as she wrote her final exams came to the forefront of her mind. Her mother always finding a way to chastise how she acted, always believing she needed to be more feminine despite the discomfort is caused Jack.  

_“Jacklyn, you need to learn how to cook in order to find a good man to marry.” She had said, soup spoon in hand, making dinner for that night, almost as if to drive the point home to Jack._

_Sitting on the couch in the living room, a pair of her father’s torn jeans in her mother’s hand, she looked at Jack with disappointment. “You need to learn how to sew, Jacklyn. How else will you fix the clothing that gets torn on the farm? I’m not going to be here forever.”_

_“Jacklyn, dress more nicely, clean yourself up. You’ll never find a nice man like that.”_

Joining the military in her final year of high school was her way out - a way to run away from it all, to get away from people telling her to be more feminine, to act like a “proper” lady. Unfortunately that line of thinking still had a way of following her despite all the work she’s done to be more comfortable with her own body. She had hoped gaining muscles would help her feel better about her body. She’d get to be strong, maybe lose some of that softness. but it didn’t go away, not completely.

Her muscles did become more defined; she’s proud of them, but she had hoped putting on muscle would reduce some of the negativity she had toward her own body more than it actually did. She still felt like curling in on herself sometimes. She still felt like punching the mirror in. On some occasions, when she felt her absolute worst, she felt like taking something to her skin.

 

* * *

 

 Jack turns the knob with a squeak and wraps herself in a towel. She pointedly avoids looking at herself in the mirror as she toweled herself dry, ties her hair in its ever-present braid, and puts on her clean clothes: sweats, and a black tank top. It didn't stop her from the nauseous feeling that sometimes accompanies her after she has been naked for any amount of time.

The sports bra she wears under it provides her with some sort of comfort, at least, sitting tightly around her chest. The snugness reminds her that it’s keeping everything in place, almost making her chest smooth, closer to the flatness she desires. She likes that it does that. Putting it on after not wearing it for the entirety of her shower gives her such a strong sense of relief. It feels like she can breathe again.

She throws her dirty clothes and towel in the laundry chute, walking swiftly to the cafeteria where the rest of her squad is waiting. Jack sees the familiar head of short cropped dark hair that can only belong to one person and sits beside him.

“Finally decided to join us, huh?” Reyes asks, spoon hovering above his food.

“Yeah. Just had a good shower.” Jack takes a look at the food on Reyes’ tray and immediately stifles a gag. It seems like no matter which base she’s on or what the budget of the pre-enhancement program she was in was like, the food looks standard: it was either like cardboard or in the process of getting liquified by the air.

Reyes turns to her, looking at the empty space on the table in front of her and raises a brow. Jack was missing a food tray. He finishes chewing before he shoots her a disapproving look. “Are you not eating anything?”

“After seeing the stuff you’re eating? No.”

Brown eyes scrutinize blue ones, Reyes’ strong fingers tapping at the tabletop as he puts another spoonful into his mouth, taking several moments to chew. Jack can see him thinking.

“Then at least eat the apple.” Reyes speaks with his mouth full, tilting his head toward the bright green fruit.

“I’m not -”

“Look, I don’t give a shit if you’re not hungry, Jack. You need to eat.” He rests his utensils against the side of his platter. “Who knows if we’re doing anymore testing later on. I don’t want you passing out.”

“Why do you care?” she snaps. “We’re competing for a spot in a small program. You should be glad if I pass out and end up screwing up my times.” She reluctantly takes the apple anyway. She actually _is_ hungry, especially after what she put her body through earlier - it was just that nothing looked appealing.

Reyes nods at her in approval when he sees she’s taken the apple, and only looks away as soon as she takes a bite of it.

 

* * *

 

Jack lays under the covers, waiting for the rest of the women in the room to fall asleep. It feels as if she’s been waiting for hours for this moment to finally arrive. If she’s being more truthful with herself, she’s been waiting for much longer.

Jack holds herself as still as a statue, shoulders tense, staring intently at the blank ceiling. Her ears strain as she waits for every women’s breathing to even out, a tell-tale sign that they had all fallen asleep. She didn’t trust herself to be left alone to do what she wanted if even just one person was still awake when she left the room.

She’s tried to sneak out to do this before. Once, even when she was still living at home with her parents and siblings. She took a shirt given to her by a friend, something loose perfect for hiding her curves, and wrapped what she needed at the time inside of it. Jack had almost made it to the washroom before she was caught by her mother, standing at her bedroom door, hands on her hips.

She scolded Jack for what she assumed her daughter had been doing: she thought Jack was going to sneak out in the middle of the night to meet with a boy. Why else would she have the shirt? In the end, Jack was grounded, unable to see her friends after school for a month.

The other time Jack had tried was when she first joined basic, forced to room with several other women, feeling almost worse than she had felt back at home. Homesick and jealous of the men around her for a reason she didn’t understand, hurting in ways she couldn’t make sense of. She hadn’t waited for them to fall asleep, then, having felt bold enough to grab the bundle in her arms and make a dash for the communal washrooms.

Before she could go through with anything, however, she had been intercepted by one of her roommates who yanked the bundle right from her hands. Harsh words had left the other woman’s mouth: slurs and threats. Frightened and discouraged, she had gone back to her bed and curled up underneath the covers, keeping her back flush against the wall, and a careful eye on her roommates.

She hadn’t gotten any sleep that night.

Jack’s brought back to the present by a loud snore from one of the women, reminding her of what she’s going to do - what she _has_ to do.

Eventually, all of the women’s breathing steadies, asleep at last.

Looking out around the room, Jack slips out of bed, grabbing a couple items from her suitcase. She silently leaves the room. Peering out the door, she confirms that the hallways are empty. Relief floods through her.

Swiftly, she makes her way to the communal washroom, locking herself in a stall. Jack pulls out the items she bundled up and unravels the stretchy fabric.

Jack hasn't done this much before, but some days are worse than others, and it's the only thing she thinks will make it a bit better.

With care, she wraps the bandages around her chest, pulling snug each time it reaches around her breasts.

It hurts; she won't deny it. It's hard for her to breathe, but once it's finished being wrapped, she pulls on her pajama top - a large shirt she had taken from her brother before she left for the military.

She exits the stall, the rest of her items resting on the toilet seat, and walks up to the mirror. It feels like a weight is off her shoulders when she sees herself in the mirror, chest flat, curves covered by the baggy shirt covering her frame.

She stands up to her full height, head held high, shoulders back as she examines herself in the mirror.

She almost felt okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Guzhenn for beta-reading this and making sure everything flowed well <3

A silver spoon clinks against the bowl of porridge Jack is handed early in the morning. She looks down on it with disdain, lip curling upward in disgust at the beige conglomeration the base is trying to pass as breakfast food. The only saving grace is the small pile of fruit that makes up a salad beside it.

She misses the fresh food from the farm.

A loud huff escapes her. She wants to forgo eating breakfast, but she knows she can’t continue on without eating for much longer. Her stomach rumbles loudly, as if in agreement. She also wouldn’t be capable of living off only fruit. The program was strenuous — they were aiming to become super soldiers, after all — so she needs fuel, the calories and protein, to get through training each day.

A loud clatter on the table startles her out of her thoughts as someone takes the open seat next to her. She turns to face Reyes’ strong profile, his jaw clenched with disgust, brown eyes attempting to bore holes into the light brown mush that the mess is attempting to pass of as their food.

“Am I going to have to goad you into eating today?” Jack comments, spooning some porridge into her mouth.

Reyes snorts, eying her out of the corner of his eyes. A small smirk paints his features.

“What?”

“Wasn’t expecting you to talk to someone without them speaking to you first, is all.” 

Jack bristles. “I can  _ be _ sociable if I want.” 

A snort escapes from Reyes. “Sure.” 

Jack watches Gabriel poke at the grey porridge drowned in milk. He scoops up some of the food and examines it with a careful eye, as if it’s going to attack him. His eyes bug out, lips turned downwards into an over exaggerated frown as the slop falls from his spoon.  He makes such a big deal out of it, it’s almost hilarious. 

“Pretend it’s something else.” 

Reyes’ head snaps toward her, glowering, thick brows drawn down, creasing his forehead. “With its texture and lack of flavour? Impossible.” 

The chuckle that escapes from her is surprising. She'd let her guard drop so easily around this man, allowing him to see her true emotions. Too comfortable, too quickly. She wasn’t here to make friends. 

As quickly as it slipped, Jack schools her expression, features relaxing back into impassivity. She pokes again at the porridge. Reyes watches the entire time, brown eyes unwavering. He doesn’t comment on the sudden laugh, though. Jack’s grateful for that.  

“Maybe if you ask nicely, one of the lunch ladies will give you some brown sugar or fruit to put into it,” Jack comments, waving her spoon in the direction of the cantina. She picks up the bowl of chopped fruit, showing to to Reyes before dumping it into her porridge, stirring it in. 

“They ran out of the fruit.” Reyes frowns, staring longingly at Jack’s bowl.

She sighs, taking in Reyes’ upturned eyebrows, mouth pinched at the corners. He continues poking at the glob of food, moments away from coagulation. She looks down at her porridge, full of plump fruit — possible pumped full of chemicals, much like they’re all hoping to be in this pre-screening program — and finds herself wanting to make sure he eats.

Reyes  _ did _ encourage her to eat food yesterday, even if it was just a little bit. 

Despite the fact that she should view the man as her competition, as someone she should beat, she finds herself pushing her bowl toward him. Afterall, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone she could call a friend here. 

“What’re you doing, Morrison?” Reyes asks, confusion in his voice. 

“You gotta eat something, and if it isn’t your sad porridge, it may as well be mine,” she explains. She reaches for the coagulated mess in front of the other soldier and immediately dips her spoon into it and brings it to her mouth. If she starts eating his food, which was something akin to concrete paste, Reyes wouldn’t have any reason to refuse the much more appealing bowl that had been placed in front of him. It’s a good plan. 

Jack watches Reyes out of the corner of her eyes. He glances at the porridge with fruit, brown eyes flicking back to examine Jack. When she doesn’t make a move to take back her dish, continuing to eat Reyes’ food, he begins to eat. 

Satisfied, Jack looks away. 

It doesn’t take much longer after that for the food to be finished. Jack struggles through the bland mush, but manages to keep it down. Reyes was right yesterday, she did need to keep her energy up if she wanted a chance at being accepted. It only made sense to make sure he did the same.

 

* * *

 

Footsteps land heavily on the treadmill, her breathing controlled and even as she runs at a steady pace. The training they had gone through earlier that day ending earlier than anyone had expected. All soldiers performed leaps and bounds better than the day previous, once they had a chance to see what they were up against. Jack didn't care too much about that though, it just gave her more reason to push herself harder, both in the screening and her own training. 

Training and physical exertion helped to ease her troubled thoughts. Her muscles throbbed and her lungs stung, sensations that distracted her from her thoughts. The way her body burned stopped her from cursing her body about how it looked. If the running didn't help, then, well, she'll just go punch the ever living shit out of one of the multitude of punching bags in the gym. 

Jack jabs one of the buttons on the treadmill and it slows down to a walking pace, allowing her body to cool down. 

She finds it almost ironic that despite how much she hates her own body, and hates how it has changed in a way she didn’t want it to, she wanted to take care of it. She never wants to cause so much harm that it would keep her from reaching her goals. Getting into the Soldier Enhancement Program would change her life for the better; she’s sure of it. There’s no way she’d sabotage her own chances like that. 

The treadmill finally slows to a stop. Jack grabs the water bottle she had placed in the cup holder off to the side, drinking half its contents in slow, small gulps. It's lukewarm, now, not nearly as cold as it was when she first came down to the gym. Idly, she wonders how long she has actually been running. 

Blue eyes scan the gym. There’s no one there except for her; she's outrun everyone else who had been running alongside her. With proof of her endurance, a self-satisfied smirk tugs at her lips. She's making herself known as a force to be reckoned with amongst the candidates. She wouldn’t have it any other way. 

The creak of the door startles her out of her head, eyes immediately drifting toward it. Her gaze meets Reyes’ warm brown eyes. He assesses the room before taking another step inside, pausing as soon as his eyes settle on Jack. They widen minutely before his expression settles into something more neutral. 

“So this is where you've been hiding out,” he comments, walking toward her. 

“I'm not hiding,” is her petulant response. “I'm working out. I need to be at the top of my game.”

A thick eyebrow climbs Reyes’ forehead. “There's nothing wrong with taking a break, Morrison. If you push yourself too much you'll be nowhere near where you want to be. How long have you even been here?”

She shrugs a shoulder, moving to sling her gym bag over it. She doesn't want nor does she need an audience that will scrutinize her every move; however, before she can open the door to escape, Reyes’ voice cuts through the silence. 

“I need a spotter.” He tilts his head toward the dumbbell press. “No one else is here.” Reyes stands there patiently, expectantly, waiting for Jack to make a move.

Her shoulders slump and she turns back to take a look at Reyes. The man looks like the absolute picture of patience. Admittedly, she doesn’t have much left to do back in her bunk. Her options were to either hide under her covers and wait for her bunkmates to fall asleep so she can slip out and wrap her chest again or attempt to join in on the women’s gossiping about who they think will end up qualifying for the enhancement program and who will end up fucking who despite this place not supplying condoms. 

“I’ll spot you,” Jack finally says, voice quiet. Reyes turns to her, brows furrowed. She repeats her words hurriedly, trying not to stumble over them in embarrassment, speaking louder for Reyes to hear. A broad, victorious smile forms on his face, his lips curling upwards to show off straight, white teeth. 

She watches him as she approaches, gathering his water bottle and chalk out of his bag. He shakes the small container before the corner of his lips twitch upwards. “Don’t want them to slip.” 

“Yeah,” comes her ever-brilliant response. She curses herself, her mother’s voice echoing through her mind. ‘ _ You don’t make friends with one word responses, Jacklyn. Actually make an effort.’  _

Reyes shrugs out of the loose hoodie that adorned his figure, revealing his toned arms and broad shoulders. He wore a dark red t-shirt beneath his hoodie. Jack trails after him once he settles on one of the benches. 

“Help me with these dumbbells, will you?” 

“Yeah,” she says again. She helps him get everything together, trying not to stare at his biceps through the shirt, with the fabric stretching over the swell of muscle. It’s not long before Reyes lies down on the bench, nodding at Jack once she gets in position. 

She helps as he lifts the weight, offering some relief and assistance so it wouldn’t fall from Reyes’ hands and potentially damage more than the bench.

It doesn’t take too long for Jack to ease off, Reyes getting used to the amount he was lifting. Sweat coats his skin, covering his face and soaking his t-shirt to an even deeper red. 

With each lift, Reyes lets out a quiet grunt. Jack’s face is so close to his when she helps lower the weight, gentle puffs of Reyes’ breath hit her face. She feels her face starting to heat slightly, a light flush rising to her cheeks. Fortunately, she can blame it on the physical exertion. 

Reyes is drenched by the time he tells Jack he wants to take a break; the red shirt is several shades darker than it had been when dry. She nods, helping him set the weight down before moving to grab her own water bottle, gulping down half of what she had left. 

She’s soon joined by Reyes, who doesn’t hesitate to take of his own shirt, his sweat shiny against his skin. He takes a swig of water, then dumps some on his face to cool off. She watches the droplets drip from his nose and jaw, down over his pecs, dip down his stomach to be soaked up by the sweatpants he wears. 

Stupidly — at least, she thinks so — she finds jealousy flare within herself. She remembers hearing other women, and sometimes men, talk about how hot men were, always mindlessly nodding along. In this case, she can’t even begin to feel any appreciation for his body, not in the way she’s supposed to.

She’s angry. 

And she feels like an idiot because of it. 

Jack isn’t supposed to be jealous of a man’s body. Not of the way they have hard lines instead of soft curves. Not of the easily built-up, clearly defined muscle. Not of the facial hair. The flat chest. 

She turns away from him and shoves her water bottle back into her gym bag with more force than necessary before returning to the weights. She can practically feel the confusion radiating off of Reyes, hears the rustling of his bag as he returns his own bottle before his footsteps approach her. 

“Is everything okay, Morrison?” he asks. Jack stares ahead, refusing to look at him. 

“I’m fine.” 

Reyes heads to the weights, returning to the bench. He doesn’t lie back down though, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees, dark eyes firmly on Jack. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” She responds immediately, shutting him down. Reyes doesn’t look convinced. “Just… drop it Reyes.” She knows that as soon as those words leave her mouth she’s admitting not everything is fine, but she doesn’t want to talk anymore. She wants Reyes to stop pressing.

He raises an eyebrow but fortunately drops the topic. “We’re hanging out and I’m shirtless, I think we can be on a first name basis now.” 

Grateful for the olive branch, she nods, immediately feeling guilty for snapping at him. “You already know mine, but, I’m Jack.” She gives him a hesitant smile. The smile Reyes gives her in return is bright, it makes the tension in her shoulders relax. It makes her feel safe? She shakes her head. Reyes brings out weird emotions in her. 

“Gabriel.” 

“So… Gabriel,” Jack starts, glancing at the dumbells before looking him over one more time. Her eyes catch on slightly lighter skin underneath his pectoral muscles that she didn’t notice before. She hadn’t seen anyone with scars quite like those before, they are too symmetrical to be caused by any sort of injury. Curious, she decides to bring it up, completely dropping her original line of questioning. 

“How did you get those scars?” 

Reyes - Gabriel - stiffens suddenly, giving Jack a once over with an unreadable expression. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say he looks nervous. But why would someone be so nervous about their scars? Unless… he got it from something very embarrassing, or they are personal. 

Once he finishes his once over, he gives Jack a nod. Relief passes through her, she’s passed whatever test he put her through. 

“It was from surgery. They’re surgical scars.” 

Understanding dawns on Jack. “Oh, that’s why they’re so symmetrical,” she comments. 

Gabriel nods. “I don’t know what type of fight I’d have to get into to get scars like these.” 

Still, Jack’s curious. Why would Gabriel need to get surgery? She looks at him, head tilted slightly as she tries to place the reason for it. Something niggles at the back of her mind, something she had once overheard many years ago from her father. Something about a cousin getting surgery? She shakes her head. The memory gone, nothing but a distant thought dancing out of her grasp.  

Jack bites her lip. She wants to ask about the surgery but she doesn’t want to overstep her boundaries. Gabriel barely knows her; why would he even want to talk about something so personal with a virtual stranger? 

Gabriel’s eyes look between hers, he looks hesitant almost. Calculating. 

“I’m trans,” he starts slowly. “Transgender. It was for top surgery.” 

“Transgender…” The word echoes in her mind.

“Yeah. My brain tells me I’m a guy, but my body didn’t quite get the memo.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Is that going to be a problem?” Gabriel asks sharply. Jack bristles at the tone. It was a lot more irritable and threatening than the moment before, a thinly veiled undercurrent of venom in his words. Clearly, he’s had people react poorly to the revelation. 

“No. It’s not going to be a problem.” What she says is the truth. It’s not going to affect how she views the man she’s coming to befriend. It’s just a different facet to who he is. “Are you going to finish your reps or what?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey... it's uh... been a while

**Author's Note:**

> For the love of god please do NOT bind with ace bandages or duct tape or anything like that. It can severely damage your ribs and chest, ruining it enough for you to be incapable of getting top surgery. If you are in need of a proper binder, there are several places that will help you get a second hand one at a discounted price.


End file.
